


Barefoot on the Beach

by Mizmak



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Day At The Beach, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Nudity, Romance, Swimming, playfulness, rather innocent nudity all in all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22804282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizmak/pseuds/Mizmak
Summary: While escaping a heat wave at a private beach, Crowley and Aziraphale have a chat about the word "nice", the word "demon", and about how taking a dip in the water doesn't require any clothing....
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89





	Barefoot on the Beach

The hottest August on record for the past fifty years turned London into a melting puddle of disgruntled displeasure. When the sweltering sun had been too brutal for too many days in a row, Aziraphale tried to miracle air conditioning into the bookshop, but it made Crowley shiver, so he made it go away again.

“I have a better plan,” Crowley said as he strolled into the shop on the fifth morning of the heatwave. “I just conjured up a private beach cove for us.”

He pulled out his phone to point out the spot.

Aziraphale stared at the tiny map on the screen. “That’s a bit of a drive.” 

“There are beads of sweat on your brow, Angel.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure it won’t last forever.” A two-hour drive in the Bentley, with the way Crowley tore up the road – then again, the way he drove, it might be only a ninety-minute drive. 

“ _Beach_ ,” Crowley said. “What part of ‘quiet secluded sandy _beach_ with cooling ocean breezes’ does not appeal to you?”

Aziraphale tried to recall the last time he’d been on a beach. 1841? Or had that been 1842? He fingered the buttons of his Victorian coat. “I don’t have anything appropriate to wear.”

“It’s a _private_ cove.” Crowley smiled. “You don’t have to wear _anything_.”

“I beg your pardon?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, just wear what you always wear. It’s time we got moving.”

“But I—that is—“ He wasn’t sure why he was hesitating, other than the drive. “Will you at least go the speed limit?”

Crowley pursed his lips. “Seriously?”

“Well, _mostly_ go the speed limit? Please?”

“Yeah, all right.” Then Crowley grinned. “I picked up some food at your favorite deli first.”

Aziraphale brightened. “My dear fellow, why didn’t you say so?” He hurried to the door. “Let’s get a wiggle on, then!”

After driving _mostly_ at the speed limit, though at several hectic points, not _always_ , Crowley pulled the Bentley to a stop at the top of a bluff. “Here we are. Ready to cool down?”

Aziraphale wasn’t certain if he were talking to him or to the car. “Um, yes?”

“Good.” Crowley clapped his hands. “Let’s get down there, then.” He leapt out of the car and headed for the boot, where he had packed their gear.

“Are we really supposed to be here?” Aziraphale saw a large sign saying this was private land, and that trespassers would be suitably dealt with in an unpleasant manner. He got out to survey the area. There was merely the grass-covered bluff, and some wooden steps heading down. 

“It’s fine.” Crowley strolled to the top of the steps, carrying a hamper and two large beach towels. “I arranged for the owners to be indisposed today.”

“I hope you didn’t do anything _too_ unpleasant.”

Crowley grinned. “Just for you, I gave them winning lottery tickets. They’re off celebrating.”

“Oh, that was rather ni—“. He caught himself in time. Crowley hated it when he called him _nice_. “So no one will come here today?”

“No one will come here, and no one can even see us down there – cliff juts out into the water on either side. Utterly private. Come on, Angel.”

He headed nimbly down the steep steps.

Aziraphale followed, cautiously holding the hand rail. 

The steps wound down the bluff for quite a ways, until, when he looked back up, he couldn’t see the car. He continued on down, with Crowley far ahead of him, already on the beach. 

He had the towels spread out side by side when Aziraphale finally reached the sandy cove, with the hamper to one side. 

“Time to cool off,” Crowley said. He snapped his fingers, replacing his shoes with sandals. He was already wearing the loosest-fitting black pants Aziraphale had ever seen him in, and a light-weight shirt.

It _was_ awfully hot, even here – although a light, cool breeze offered some respite. Aziraphale looked at his suit. “Well, I suppose the coat can go.”

He took it off, carefully folding it before setting it on a handy rock near the cliff. He looked over at Crowley, who flopped down onto his towel, stretching out languidly. 

_Hm_. Quite hot out, really. Aziraphale took off his vest and added it to the pile. Then he strolled over to his towel and sat down cross-legged to remove his shoes and socks.

_Ah_. That did feel better. 

He gazed out at the water. It was very calm and smooth today, with gentle waves lapping the shore. Very peaceful, and very private, and quite relaxing. He stretched out his legs. “This is ni–“ Oops, he had almost said _nice_. “Er – this was a good idea.”

“Yup.” Crowley sat up and opened the hamper. He pulled out a cooler. “Thought you might like this, too.” He took out a pint of vanilla-chocolate swirl ice cream and two spoons.

“I do indeed.” He took a proffered spoon. 

Crowley removed the lid and held out the container between them. They dug in, sharing the sweetness of the cool, smooth ice cream. For once, Crowley ate nearly as much as he did, even battling him a little for the final bite – though in the end, he allowed Aziraphale to have it.

“Mmm.” He savored the last taste of vanilla and chocolate. “That was ni—um, I mean, that was _delightful_.”

“Nah, it was downright _nice_ , if you ask me.” Crowley smiled as he put the things away.

“Nice!” Aziraphale gasped. “Why you – you fiend! I’ve been trying to avoid saying that four-letter word and there you go tossing it about as if it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Honestly.” He crossed his arms.

Crowley was grinning now. “Perfectly good word.”

“Since when has it been a good word for me to use around _you_ , may I ask?” He was in full-on pout mode.

“Since Armageddon didn’t happen.”

“What?” Aziraphale stopped pouting. He uncrossed his arms. “Why?”

“ _Nice_ didn’t apply to demons, that’s why.” Crowley wasn’t grinning now – he had a more serious expression. “And I haven’t felt demonic for some time.”

“You what?” Aziraphale stared at his friend. “Not demonic? What do you mean?”

Crowley shrugged. “Simple. We got fired, remember? You don’t work for Heaven anymore, and I don’t work for Hell. So I don’t actually _do_ any tempting or misdeeds, or anything else that a demon would do. I mean, I suppose I _could_ if I felt like it – but, well – I _don’t_.”

“Really?” Aziraphale considered the implications. He realized that he hadn’t performed any blessings or little miracles for humans lately either. Though he felt sure that he _would_ , should the occasion arise. But he didn’t feel as if he needed to go out looking for anything angelic to do. 

“That miracle I did to get us this private beach for the day was the opposite of demonic, right?”

“Yes, I suppose it was.” This was all quite intriguing. “Are you actually saying that you don’t feel like a demon anymore?” But then, what did that make him? Could he truly just _not_ be what he’d been for six thousand years?

“Not as such.” Crowley drew his legs up and rested his arms on his knees as he gazed out at the water. “Though _technically_ , I suppose it's still true. But not practically. I feel – well – I feel _free_.”

Aziraphale suddenly remembered what Lord Beezlebub had said at “Crowley’s” trial. After he had demonstrated his immunity to holy water, he had heard Beezlebub say, _He’s gone native. He’s not one of us anymore._ Hell truly had disowned Crowley.

And Heaven had disowned _him_ , yet he still felt like an angel – albeit an unemployed one. “So what are you then, I wonder?” He thought it over. “Perhaps you’re simply a spiritual being in human form who happens to live on Earth?”

“Sounds about right.” Crowley turned his gaze upon him. “I know you’ve only known me as a demon for six millennia. I’d understand if that doesn’t change.”

Even as he said it, Aziraphale saw the yearning in his eyes. Could he stop thinking of Crowley as a demon? He thought over all the times that he had called them hereditary enemies, or had insisted that they were on opposite sides. He had spoken worse words than those, too. None of which were true.

If even _Hell_ no longer considered Crowley to be one of their own kind, then surely he could do the same.

It wasn’t a question of whether he _could_ stop thinking that way. He _needed_ to stop – because Crowley was his _friend_ – the truest friend he would ever have. 

Aziraphale reached over to touch his friend’s arm. “I want it to change, very much.”

Crowley looked at him, and Aziraphale dearly wished he could see his eyes, which were hidden behind those damned sunglasses.

He hoped those amber eyes were shining right now.

Crowley lay his hand atop Aziraphale’s. “Thanks.” 

Aziraphale smiled. “I can honestly say that I never thought you were very good at your job in the first place.” _And he had always said that deep down, Crowley was quite a good person_.

“Well, I did _try_ ,” Crowley replied. “Just not very hard.” He broke their contact to finger his black shirt. “And I do like the look.”

“Yes, please don’t start wearing different colored clothing. I don’t think I could handle that.”

“Good. I like black.” Then Crowley smiled, took off his shirt, and tossed it onto the sand. “Or nothing at all.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Crowley let out a deep breath, shook himself, and gazed out at the water. “Angel, do you know how to swim?” He stood up in one swift, limber movement.

Aziraphale stared at the water. He had been to the Roman baths many times, a long time ago. He had tried a few private baths in London over the years, but that wasn’t _swimming_. Merely soaking. “Not as such.”

He had very much enjoyed being in the water at those baths, though.

“Just try wading or paddling, then. I’m going for a swim.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t wearing swim trunks.”

“Like I said, _nothing at all_.”

And with one snap of his fingers, Crowley suddenly stood there utterly naked.

Unless you counted the sandals.

Aziraphale stared at him in all his glory. He stared at the smooth muscles of his chest and the soft hairs narrowing downward. He stared at the tilt of his hips…he swallowed. He had always found the nude human form to be a thing of beauty – though not necessarily directly in front of him in the flesh. He was rather more used to Greek statuary. 

Crowley grinned, and then he turned and sauntered off across the sand towards the water.

Aziraphale watched him, admiring the muscles of his back shifting up and down as he walked.

The water was quite close, and Crowley quickly waded in. He took off his sunglasses and tossed them onto the sand. Then he bent down to take off his sandals, and threw them next to the sunglasses before striding farther and deeper into the ocean.

He stood waist deep now. He turned round, facing the beach. “It’s perfect. Come on in!”

_Oh dear_. It did look _so_ inviting.

The sun beat down, and his clothes felt more restricting than ever. The water looked so refreshing as Crowley stood there splashing it about.

Then he turned round and dove into the water, swimming with strong, steady strokes away from the beach.

_Damn_. It was far too tempting – to be so unrestrained. He imagined what it would feel like, to be with him in the water, unclad, to feel the coolness of the waves wash over his bare skin. 

He imagined what Crowley was feeling right now, gliding smoothly through the ocean unhindered, his body bare to the water’s touch.

Aziraphale bit his lower lip at the image. Maybe he wouldn’t call Crowley demonic anymore, but he could certainly call him a _tempter_.

Aziraphale realized at that moment that he wanted to be tempted by Crowley very badly indeed.

He stood and looked around the cove, reassuring himself that absolutely no one could see them here. Unless you counted a gull or two, they were definitely alone.

He took a deep, steadying breath. He watched Crowley as he made a turn in the water, now swimming parallel to the shore. He looked ever so comfortable out there, moving confidently through the gentle waves. 

Aziraphale slowly took off his shirt and trousers. He folded them and set them on the towel. Then he took off his underclothes. 

He gazed at his naked form. Having been in this corporation a rather long time, he felt intimately familiar with it, and though he was standing out in the open air where he had never stood like this before, it still felt completely comfortable. In fact, it felt decidedly _freeing_.

Free – wasn’t that what Crowley said he felt like now? Yes. That was it – there was a newfound freedom within him - within them both. 

Yes, he was still an angel, but he was _free_ from Heaven’s command, and he was free to love his dearest friend. And he knew that he was also a spiritual being in human form who happened to live on Earth, with the only other one of his kind – the friend who loved him in return.

Aziraphale stretched his arms and shook himself. He strolled down to the water. He waded in, feeling the coolness of the waves wash over his body. 

He saw Crowley turn round again, heading back towards the cove.

He felt the damp sand between his toes, and the light breeze through his hair. 

He moved his arms through the water as he went in deeper, up to mid-chest. He stopped there, luxuriating in the feel of the gentle waves, moving his arms in slow circles to keep himself steady.

Crowley swam up to him, stopping a few feet away, coming up to a standing position. “Hey, Angel. All right, is it?”

“It’s fine. Quite lovely.”

“I can show you how to swim if you like.”

“No, I don’t think I’m quite ready for that. I can simply paddle about here where it’s not too deep.”

“Do whatever feels good.” Crowley turned onto his back and began a lazy motion, just his arms up and down, as he floated about in an ever widening circle.

Aziraphale tried going out a bit farther, and he shoved off the bottom for short bursts of deeper immersion. He used only a simple paddling of the arms with a bit of flailing kicks to keep his head above the water – nowhere near an accomplished movement. But it did feel good, and he had _fun_. 

Crowley continued his lazy floating, and after a time, Aziraphale decided to try a bit of sport. He splashed about until he came up close to his friend, and tried to grab one of his feet, but Crowley spotted his effort in time, and kicked off into a proper backstroke to escape.

Then he swung round closer again, and resumed his slower floating strokes, while Aziraphale had a good deal of fun attempting to snatch his foot again, and so they made a game of it. Crowley would come in close, and Aziraphale would _nearly_ grab him, only to have Crowley flip onto his front to swim off, or to dive beneath the water out of sight.

He was such an agile swimmer. Aziraphale felt amazed that he’d not known this before. Surely he ought to know everything about the fellow after all these millennia, yet there he was cavorting through the waves, proving him wrong. 

Then at last, as he was about to give up, Aziraphale managed to catch hold of an ankle, causing Crowley to halt abruptly, splashing wildly. Aziraphale let go, and Crowley spluttered to a standing position. “All right, you win.”

He splashed water into Aziraphale’s face, laughed, and moved off quickly towards the shore.

Aziraphale shouted imprecations at him as he followed.

But by the time he staggered onto the beach, he was too tired from his exertions to feel any need for revenge. He simply flopped onto his back on the beach towel, breathing deeply.

Crowley stretched out alongside him, doing exactly the same thing.

They lay there a while, with the heat of the sun drying them off. Just as Aziraphale felt it might be a little too hot and too bright, a band of thick white clouds drifted over, blocking the sunlight.

He looked at Crowley, who had neglected to pick up his sunglasses during his mad dash. Golden eyes gazed back at him. 

Aziraphale brushed his fingers down Crowley’s face. “Are you part water snake or something?”

“Possibly.” He took hold of Aziraphale’s roaming hand, and kissed the back of it. “I could get used to doing things like this.”

“Do you mean, doing things that are… _nice?”_

Crowley turned onto his side, still holding Aziraphale’s hand. He brushed his other hand through Aziraphale’s hair. “I mean, doing things like this with my best friend.” 

Then he leaned in even closer to kiss Aziraphale on the mouth.

_Nice_ didn’t even begin to cover the feeling of those lips on his own. Aziraphale closed his eyes as he tasted a trace of saltwater on Crowley’s lips. He fell easily into the caress, and he turned onto his side as well, drawing an arm round Crowley’s waist, touching him, all of his body touching his in a completely natural embrace.

There was beauty in that human form, everywhere he met it with his own. And there was strength, and fluidity, along with a light _frisson_ that left him quivering with joy.

Their kiss became more than one kiss, and then the touches moved from lips to throats to chests and up again in an affectionate dance. Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s back, and felt strong arms massaging his own, easing away any tautness. 

Then he relaxed into their embrace, simply holding and being held in friendship and in love, without any expectations, without any tension, utterly at ease with each other.

His heart and soul were freely given to his dearest friend, who freely blessed him with his own.

Aziraphale left off kissing Crowley’s neck for long enough to say, “By the way, I happen to love you.” _As if that weren’t obvious by now_ …but it felt very good to say it.

“Really?” Crowley smiled. “I couldn’t tell.” Then he kissed Aziraphale’s forehead. “I happen to love you, too.”

“Of course you do.” Aziraphale kissed the hollow of his throat. “I’m fairly certain you don’t go around lying naked on a beach with someone you just like a lot.”

Crowley gazed at him, leaning back a bit to take in all of him. “Yeah, I think you’re right. And now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything but that suit in nearly two hundred years.”

“I am quite fond of it.” 

“Actually, so am I.”

“You are?” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “I thought you deemed it too old-fashioned.”

“True. But it’s _you_. It’s…well… _comforting_. Enduring. And endearing – just like _you_.”

“Good – I’m glad to hear it. Because taking it off is not something I plan to do with any regularity.” He looked round the cove. “Only under rather _special_ circumstances.”

“Is that right?” Crowley smiled. “What about sleeping? Say, in a bed. Say, together.”

“Ah.” _Tempter_. “I own pyjamas.”

Crowley sighed. “I might have known.”

Aziraphale smiled as well. “I didn’t actually say that I would put them _on_.” Two could play at that game.

“Angel, are you _tempting_ me?”

“Might be. You could find out tonight.” 

Crowley kissed him again. “I’ll do that.”

They lay together for some time, until the clouds cooled the day off too much, until the need for clothes outweighed the need for closeness, of which they had their fill – for now, at least.

So they left off their embraces, and while Crowley used a snap of his fingers to dress himself, Aziraphale took his time putting his clothes on, neatly and carefully.

“Didn’t we bring some cheese and crackers?” he said as he sat down cross-legged on the beach towel. 

Crowley rummaged in the hamper and produced them. “And wine.” He brought out the bottle and two glasses. “And some chocolate cake for afters.”

It was wonderful, Aziraphale thought as they ate and drank their way through the provisions, how relaxed and easy they were in each other’s company, as if nothing had changed between them. 

Then again, maybe nothing truly _had_ changed – other than bringing into the light what had been hidden – what had been there all along, all the same.

He raised his glass in a toast. “To my best friend,” he said. “And to my love.”

Crowley raised his own glass. “Forever and always,” he replied.

They clinked glasses, and they drank the wine.

Aziraphale looked around him – at the sandy beach, at the protective cliffs, at the calming water lapping the shore. 

It was nice. 

He looked up at the heavenly blue sky, and the drifting clouds. 

It was all quite nice.

Then he gazed at Crowley, at his dearest friend, at the spiritual being in human form who sat across from him drinking wine, smiling at him while slowly licking his lips after each sip.

And that was very nice indeed.


End file.
